


what a lavish cage this is

by emblem_oracle



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Defying Chosen Path, Gen, Pre-Canon, controlling parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblem_oracle/pseuds/emblem_oracle
Summary: For the first time in her life, Astrid decides to make her own choices.





	what a lavish cage this is

**Author's Note:**

> Have a fic about the underrated fave! Astrid deserves more love, guys...
> 
> Critique is always welcome!

Astrid's head was buzzing so loud that she almost didn't hear the words. She stared at herself in the mirror; studying the paleness that had sunk into her cheeks, the deadness of her eyes. The blue gem propped upon her chest.

The moment her mother presented the jewel she had known but words brought confirmation.

It was only a matter of time.

"My dear, Duke Lekain of Gaddos has accepted our invitation to marry you. You will finally become a woman. Isn't that wonderful?"

Her mother looked up and she, too, began studying Astrid's face in the mirror; brows narrowed slightly at the corners in her usual severity. She would never accept a refusal. She hadn't accepted one with Abigail or Lucile or Oriana.

And she wouldn't accept one now, with Astrid.

Astrid swallowed hard and glanced up. She didn't smile - couldn't bring herself to - as she murmured, "Yes, mother."

Her mother placed the hairbrush back onto the cabinet and smiled like she had won something.

Won her daughter's eternal misery, perhaps.

She was barely eighteen and already her life was dealt away, her freedom a distant dream.

_Isn't that wonderful?_

The necklace might as well have been a noose for how it choked her.

* * *

Astrid learned later that her fiancée was thirty years older than her when she was offered the chance to read his proposal. The parchment smelled strongly of rosewater and lavender – enough that she coughed when she first opened the pages – and she blinked tears out of her eyes as she read the first words.

_-I would be honoured to accept your proposal. Miss Astrid seems quite the beautiful specimen and I'm sure she would make a complimentary wife. Furthermore, our children would much benefit from House Damiel's signature beauty and blood.—_

She stopped reading after that.

Her father, who had been the core power behind the whole engagement, removed the pages from her hands and folded them before he slipped them into his coat pocket. His mouth was thin and notably unemotional.

It was all business as usual for him. He'd done this many times.

"Now, Astrid. You have a dress fitting in three days. Prepare yourself for that."

Astrid nodded slowly, dark hair almost falling into her eyes. She bit down her refusals and her pain, her fears and anguish. It wouldn't matter in the end. She had no excuse, no reason she could use to get out of this mess.

She needed a reason. It was her only escape. Astrid refused to be like her sisters.

"Very well, father."

* * *

Astrid's grandmother was talented in styling hair. Or, at least she was in Astrid's uncultured opinion. The woman was all creases and wrinkles with black and grey hair. Her voice cracked and wavered often but she was still a good singer. Her hands shook as she worked Astrid's hair into thick plaits, but they still trailed down her back in neat rows.

Astrid wasn't vein and usually cared little about which way her hair was tied. However, the feeling of her grandmother's hands as they threaded through her locks was relaxing and never failed to bring her some ease.

The book balanced on her knee shifted as she settled better against the back of the chair. Her grandmother raised a brow at the book before she returned her attention to the brunette hair before her. "What are you reading, Astrid?"

Astrid bit down on her lip, already losing herself to thought. " _'Till Morning Comes.'_ I asked sister Mari to get it for me from town."

Her grandmother chuckled; a low sound in her throat. "Isn't that the one where the lady flees from her family to be with the man she loves?"

Astrid nodded. "Yes, grandmother. I was hoping for a way out of this, but… I don't know what I can do."

She felt no fear in revealing as much to the woman. After all, Astrid had revealed many anguishes over the years as she had struggled to keep with her family's wishes. In those times, her grandmother had been her only friend. Her only confidant.

Her grandmother threaded another plait into her hair. Her eyes became distant for a moment and she seemed contemplative as she weaved. Then, she said, "Be careful reading that around your father. He would not be pleased to see you looking into those topics."

Astrid nodded, looking her grandmother in the eye as she said, "Don't worry, grandmother. I will be careful. Thank you."

* * *

Many moons later, Astrid found a book nestled within the towers of bookcases which finally gave her hope.

Bathed by moonlight, Astrid quickly slunk away from the library and to her room; holding the leather cover close to her chest. The words were a blur inside her mind and they shone brighter than the sun.

That night, she kept herself awake spilling over the pages. The lines promised a life away from motherhood and wedding gowns – at least until she made the choice to have such a life.

However, Astrid was not a warrior. She had experience with a bow but she was an amateur, at best. She was unsure whether she could survive in the military.

But she could improve. She could make herself get through it.

She would.

It was better than marrying without a say, anyway.

* * *

Her parents did not take it well.

Her mother's voice scratched in her throat as she stormed, words spat out faster than arrows. "Don't be ridiculous, silly child. You are of House Damiel! You will not sully our name by joining the ranks of a common soldier."

Luckily, Astrid had prepared for that.

"What greater pride is there than fighting for one's country? Mother, our family was born from great soldiers. My brothers have joined the war effort and have been granted the apostle's grace. I would like to also fight in the goddess' name."

Her father slammed his cup back onto the table and the wood shook beneath it. Little sister Agatha stared at her food but, even in her anxiety, she could not force down the wonder and admiration in her expression.

It was that look which bolstered Astrid's resolve and she sat taller in her seat; ready for a fresh onslaught of criticism. Brother Sebastian muttered into his cup – something about how 'girls shouldn't use weapons' – which Astrid ignored in favour of looking her father in the eye.

Her father pushed back his plate and glared into her head. "Girl. You are engaged. How do you expect to join the military and be a wife at the same time?"

This was her chance. Her opportunity for freedom. The way she could live a life on her own terms. Knowing that, she could not fail.

Astrid lifted her chin as she said, "The wedding would have to be postponed. However, I feel that this is for the best."

Her mother, face screwed up in aggravation, continued to grouse. "This is not like you, Astrid. I suppose we ought to have expected a fit of teenage rebellion at some point, but this is a foolish mistake.

"The choice is mine," Astrid said. A few of her sisters raised their heads to watch her. They all remembered the sisters before her and they all remembered the tear stained letters. Astrid was the first to try and fight against it all.

And there was hope in that.

"I feel this is the best choice for my future. And so, mother and father, I feel I must insist. I'm sorry."

The look her father gave her was the most scathing she had ever received.

Yet, the look brought her no pain. Only relief.

* * *

The sapphire cracked against her dresser as it fell from her neck. Astrid pushed it aside, grabbing the silver chain her grandmother had given her years before. _'A symbol of my love,'_ she had said.

Now, it meant liberty.

The clasp snapped easily into the chain and Astrid glanced into the mirror. Her face was wiped clear of makeup; her hair fell loosely across her shoulders. The finery was all gone, leaving only her.

Astrid allowed the corners of her mouth to curl into a smile.

It was time to go.


End file.
